


Your Sweet Tooth Will Be The Death of Me

by Lavellington



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Or Friendship, Pre-Slash, fear of dentistry, up to you really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 17:58:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavellington/pseuds/Lavellington
Summary: Todd has accepted that, however unlikely it may seem, Dirk Gently is his best friend. But he's not the guy'smother.





	Your Sweet Tooth Will Be The Death of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that's right. I wrote an entire fic about Dirk having to go to the dentist. In case it wasn't obvious, guess who had to go to the dentist this morning? And guess who hates going to the dentist? And guess who ignored all the wonderful prompts put up for Brotzly week and decided to inflict her dentist sulk on everyone?
> 
> Me. It's me, guys.
> 
> Anyways, some extremely vague mentions of trauma (Blackwing) and some descriptions of panic and anxiety - Dirk hates the dentist even more than I do. 
> 
> This isn't set in the same universe as my other fic series - it's a standalone and Dirk and Todd aren't dating. Can be read as romantic or platonic.

Todd might not be the most emotionally aware person, but one year, four cases, and multiple concussions since a cheerful stranger first climbed in his window, he can admit that Dirk Gently is his best friend. Maybe even the best friend he's ever had.

It's not something he's ever admitted out _loud_ , exactly, but he's accepted it and he's getting on with his life. He accepts Dirk showing up in his apartment at strange hours. He accepts that Dirk has serious personal space issues, both emotionally and physically. He accepts that Dirk, bafflingly, gets him in a multitude of ways that no one else ever has, and that it seems to work the other way around too. He even accepts the K-pop.

Dirk is his best friend. Okay, great. Accepted.

What he will _not_ put up with is the general assumption in their friend group that he's basically Dirk's mother. No matter what Farah says, it's not Todd's job to tell Dirk to eat more vegetables, to look both ways before he crosses the street, or to turn off the damn cartoons and go to bed (and man, he _wishes_ any of that was hypothetical).

It's definitely not his job to say anything now, when Dirk gets up to order a second milkshake to go with his dessert. Nope. He's not saying a word.

"Todd," Farah mutters, elbowing him, " _say_ something."

"Ow," Todd says, squirming away from her extremely pointy elbow. "What?"

On the other side of the booth, Amanda kicks him under the table.

" _Ow_ ," he repeats, with slightly more emphasis. " _What_?"

"I don't know," Amanda says, grinning unrepentantly. "I just saw Farah giving you shit and decided to jump in."

"Great," Todd says. "Fantastic. What am I supposed to say something about, exactly?"

"He's still making that face every time he drinks something cold." Farah mimes an exaggerated wince, not far off what Dirk's face was doing opposite him a couple of minutes ago. "He probably needs to go to the dentist."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Todd agrees, sipping his coffee. "He's a dessert guy. Dessert for breakfast, sometimes."

"So say something! He listens to you."

"I think you have me confused with somebody else," Todd says. "Maybe the mysterious and ineffable guiding forces of the universe."

"Farah has a point," Amanda says. "I noticed it too. I tried to ask him about it the other day and he got kind of freaked out."

"Freaked out how?" Todd says, his heart sinking. He knows Dirk still has a lot of issues with medical stuff post-Blackwing. He tends to tense up whenever he's near hospitals, and he doesn't even like taking aspirin. It just never occurred to Todd to wonder how that might affect Dirk's dental health. He doesn't really like that it's occurring to him _now_.

"He got kind of pale," Amanda says, "and he did that face, you know–" she does her own Dirk imitation, slightly more theatrical than Farah's, raising her eyebrows as far as they'll go and smiling unconvincingly. She looks exactly like Dirk does when he's pretending he's not freaking out about something.

Todd sighs. "Damn it."

"And then," Amanda says, relaxing her face, "he said it was nothing to worry about and he started talking about seahorses."

"What about seahorses?"

They all jump guiltily as Dirk slides back into the booth next to Amanda.

"I was just telling the guys about that story you told me," Amanda says, and Dirk's face lights up as he turns to Todd and Farah.

"Oh," he says, "it was fascinating!"

Todd watches his face as subtly as he can throughout an almost definitely made-up story about seahorses trying to communicate with deep sea divers. Dirk winces six times.

Damn it.

 

*

 

They say goodbye to Farah and Amanda at the diner, and Todd decides to wait until they get back to his place to say anything. It's Friday, and Dirk always comes over to watch a movie on Fridays. Todd doesn't think he'll be able to watch Dirk wince his way through his soda and popcorn without bringing it up anyway.

"Dirk," he says, putting his hand on Dirk's arm before he can start the movie. "Can I ask you something?"

Dirk turns, looking at him attentively.

"Of course," he says. "What is it?"

"I just... I noticed you seemed a little uncomfortable earlier, when you were drinking your milkshake."

Dirk's face shuts down like Todd said he caught him kicking puppies, or making tea in the microwave.

"I don't know what you mean," he says, avoiding Todd's eyes. "I love milkshake, why would I be uncomfortable with it?"

"I meant physically uncomfortable," Todd says. "Do you... does one of your teeth hurt?"

He feels like enough of an idiot asking this question of his fully grown best friend that if Dirk was a slightly better liar, that would probably be the end of it. But Dirk's face immediately goes shifty, his gaze hovering around Todd's left shoulder as he says,

"...no?"

"Dirk," Todd says, patiently. "Are you lying?"

"No," Dirk says, still staring resolutely at Todd's shirt.

"Uh huh," Todd says. "Are you taking advantage of ambiguous wording or deliberately misunderstanding the intent of my question to mislead me?"

Dirk scowls, twisting his fingers together.

"Dirk."

" _Yes_ ," he says, throwing his hands up, "alright, yes! You asked if _one_ of my teeth was hurting."

"Your teeth are hurting," Todd realises. "Plural."

"It's fine!" Dirk says, looking back up at him and doing the exact face Amanda demonstrated earlier. Todd wonders if Dirk knows how little his fake, _everything is fine_ smile resembles his real smile. "It's just a little toothache, it'll pass!"

"Cavities don't pass, Dirk. You need to go to a dentist."

Dirk jumps off the couch like Todd threatened to start drilling into his teeth then and there.

"Nope," he says, "No, I don't think that's necessary. Thank you very much for your concern, but I'm afraid I really must dash."

Todd looks up at him, eyebrows raised.

"What's the rush? We were gonna watch a movie, you can't have plans."

"I..." Dirk's eyes dart between him and the door. "I left the oven on."

"You've never used an oven in your life."

"I left the kettle on?" Dirk tries.

"You have an electric kettle," Todd says. "It turns itself off."

He stands up, and Dirk takes an instinctive step back. Todd can't help the brief flash of hurt. He's trying to _help_ here.

"Dirk," he says, "the longer you leave it, the worse it'll get. Do you want to end up with no teeth?"

"I can't go," Dirk says, pleadingly. "Todd, I hate dentists. Every time I try to book an appointment, I just end up bolting when I see them coming with the scrubs on. I can't tell you how many bibs I've accidentally stolen."

"What if I came with you?" Todd says, watching the last shred of his credibility fly out the window. If he's doing this, maybe he should just go for broke and bring up the all-night cartoon binges after all. Dirk needs a healthier sleep cycle.

"You would do that?"

Dirk is staring at him, eyes wide.

"Yeah," Todd says, "sure. What are friends for?"

Dirk's face lights up and he grabs Todd around the shoulders, crushing him to his chest. Todd grunts and pats him awkwardly on the back, his upper arms pinned to his sides.

After a few seconds, Dirk pulls back to gives him a watery smile, and Todd feels something squeeze painfully in his chest.

"We'll book you an appointment in the morning," he says.

 

*

 

"So this is _your_ dentist," Dirk says, for the twenty seventh time, standing outside the door to the surgery. He's lingering a few steps behind Todd, hugging himself around his middle. "This is the dentist you go to. For _your_ teeth."

"Yes," Todd says, "this is my dentist. Dr Matthews. He's a nice guy."

"When was the last time you came here?"

"About two months ago," Todd says. "Just for a clean and polish."

Dirk looks up at the sign above the door, and then at Todd, and then at his own feet.

"Did it hurt?" he asks.

"Not really," Todd says. "Just a little discomfort."

Dirk takes a step forward so he's standing next to Todd in front of the door.

"Are you going to come into the room with me, or wait outside?"

"I can come in with you if you want," Todd says, and Dirk looks at him quickly before his eyes dart away again.

"If you wouldn't mind," he says, awkwardly.

"Of course not," Todd says, not to be outdone in the awkwardness department. "Of course I don't mind."

Dirk follows him into the waiting room, and immediately starts leafing through the trashy magazines.

Todd watches him and wonders if he's doing the right thing. Maybe this is going to bring up all kinds of crap for Dirk. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed him to come. Dirk is clearly still feeling the effects of what happened to him at Blackwing, and might well be feeling them for the rest of his life. He's barely talked to Todd about what it was like in there, and Todd is pretty sure he's never even tried with anyone else. He should be seeing a therapist, not a dentist. Or... maybe a therapist as _well_ as a dentist. He should know that it's okay to ask for help. Todd should tell him that.

"Dirk," Todd says, and Dirk puts down his three year old copy of Cosmo to look at him, his face pale and lips set. Todd opens his mouth and closes it again.

"I just wanted to say..." he shifts in the hard, scratchy chair. He wants to say he's proud of him. He wants to say that Dirk can talk to him about anything. He wants to tell him that however mundane this might seem to anyone else, he thinks that Dirk is the bravest person alive just for being here. "I wanted to say I'm glad you brought me with you."

Dirk relaxes marginally.

"I'm glad you offered to come," he says, opening the magazine again. "Do you want to do a quiz to see if your man is satisfied in the bedroom?"

"Sure," Todd says, "why not."

 

*

 

"Dirk Gently," the nurse says, poking her head into the waiting room. "We're ready for you, hon."

Dirk stiffens and looks at Todd in panic.

"It's okay," Todd says, putting his hand on Dirk's arm. "I'm coming in with you."

He looks back at the nurse, who's watching sympathetically.

"That's okay, right?"

"Yeah," she says, smiling reassuringly at Dirk. "That's no problem, hon. No problem at all."

Dirk, because he's Dirk, makes an effort to smile back at her as they get up and follow her to the exam room.

"Sit down," she says, "and make yourself comfy."

"Thank you," Dirk says, sitting down gingerly and swinging his legs up onto the chair. The nurse puts a bib on him, and smiles again, patting his arm.

"Dr Matthews will be right with you."

Todd nods at her as she leaves and goes to sit on a stool on the other side of the chair.

"Okay," he says, "Dr Matthews is a nice man, so when he comes in, don't run out with the bib."

"No promises," Dirk says. He's sweating under the lights, and his hands are clenching and unclenching on the chair at his sides. Todd reaches over and takes his left hand, stilling it. Dirk looks at him, apparently startled out of his panic.

"If you get nervous," Todd says, "just squeeze my hand. I used to do it with my mom, when I was a kid. Not that I think you're a kid," he adds hastily. "Or that I'm your mother."

Dirk, he notices with some relief, is laughing at him.

"Thanks, Todd," he says, with affection on his face that makes Todd think of pink band aids, such a long time ago. He squeezes Dirk's hand.

"You're welcome."

 

*

 

What follows is the most emotionally fraught tooth cleaning Todd has ever been party to in his life. Dr Matthews is the same friendly, matter-of-fact guy as always. It's only when Dirk stiffens at the sight of him that Todd realises that maybe his stature and his moustache might remind Dirk of Riggins. When he opens his mouth and starts speaking in a strong Texan accent, Dirk relaxes a little.

He tells Dirk that he'll stop whenever Dirk raises his left hand, if he needs a break. Dirk nods, but refuses to let go of Todd, which means that Todd's hand gets yanked up roughly every ten seconds as Dirk panics at the sensation of metal scraping his teeth.

It turns out, miraculously, that Dirk only needs one filling, and Dr Matthews tells them he has a free slot that afternoon if they don't mind waiting around for half an hour while he sees another patient. Dirk flatly refuses to even consider the procedure until Dr Matthews explains to him that the alternatives are either waiting for the nerve to become exposed and the tooth to get infected, or having it removed. Dirk turns extremely pale at this.

"Maybe I _should_ just have it taken out," he says. He and Todd are sitting in the waiting room again while Dr Matthews finishes up with his other appointment. "Maybe I should have them _all_ taken out. Then I'd never have to do this again!"

"You'd have no _teeth_ ," Todd says. "You wouldn't be able to chew, or talk properly. And you'd scare the clients."

"It might be a good conversation starter," Dirk says, stubbornly.

"It would be difficult to have a conversation," Todd says, "without any teeth."

"Plosives are overrated," Dirk says, twisting the cuffs of his jacket in his hands. "I'll talk entirely in vowels."

"How will you say your own name?"

"Urrr Eh-eee" Dirk says, contorting his face in concentration.

"You sound like a dolphin," Todd tells him.

"I think it works."

"Dirk." Todd pats his hand, since that seemed to help before. "It's gonna be fine."

"Well, that's easy for you to say!" Dirk grabs onto his hand immediately, clinging tight. "You're not waiting for a stranger to drill a hole in your skull!"

"Well, when you put it like that," Todd says, "it sounds terrifying."

"I know this seems silly to you," Dirk begins, and okay, _hell_ no.

"No," Todd interrupts. Dirk looks at him, surprised. "No, it doesn't. You've been through a lot. In some places that probably remind you a lot of this. I don't think you're silly. I think you're brave."

Dirk's mouth falls open as he stares.

"I..." he swallows, and looks down at their hands. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Todd says. "It's just the truth. If you've had enough for one day, that's fine. You did great. I'll come back with you for the filling whenever you want."

Dirk looks back up at him.

"No," he says, "I want to do it. I can. I can do it."

"Of course you can," Todd says. "You're Dirk Gently."

Dirk beams at him.

 

*

 

When he gets Dirk out of the surgery just over an hour later, his face is still numb, his mouth drooping at one corner. Dirk curls up against the door the whole car journey home, miserable as a wet cat, prodding himself in the face to see if the feeling is back yet.

Todd brings him up to his own apartment without even asking. Dirk has enough stuff there at this point that they don't need to stop off at his place. Once Dirk is wearing pajamas and huddled at one end of the couch with his favourite of Todd's blankets, Todd crouches down in front of him.

"Do you want anything?" he asks, brushing Dirk's hair away from his forehead. Dirk shakes his head, the bottom half of his face hidden by the blanket so that his nose pokes out over the top. His eyes are bright and red-rimmed.

"You wanna watch a movie?" Todd asks, and Dirk nods.

"Okay," Todd says, getting up and going over to the TV.

When he sits down next to Dirk, he feels him scoot closer, and then Dirk holds up the blanket so that Todd can share it with him.

"Thanks," he says, settling the blanket over his front, Dirk pressed warm against his side. They're about half an hour into _Who Framed Roger Rabbit_ , which is Dirk's favourite "crime thriller", when Dirk's head lolls onto his shoulder and Todd realises he's fallen asleep. He doesn't move for the rest of the movie.

 

*

 

Dirk sleeps right through the end of the movie and just keeps on sleeping, so eventually Todd gets up, careful not to wake him, and goes into the kitchen to make coffee. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket, and pulls it out to see Amanda's name.

"Hi," he says, answering the phone like his sister calling him is still a normal, everyday occurrence.

"Hey, asshole," she says, which _is_ a normal, everyday occurrence. "How's Dirk? I tried calling him, but he didn't answer."

"He's asleep," Todd says. "It was fine. He got a clean and polish, and a filling. I think it kind of took it out of him, though."

"Well, when he's awake, just give him soup or something. Or tea. You have tea, right?"

"Yes," Todd says, feeling suddenly irritated again, even though he'd been thinking about making tea for Dirk right before Amanda called.

"Dude," she says, her voice flat. "What's with the tone."

"Sorry," he says, "nothing. It's just... I'm not his mother, you know?"

"Who the hell said you were?"

"Nobody, I guess. It's not like I mind doing any of this." Honestly, how little he minds doing this might actually be the problem. "I don't... sorry."

There's silence from the other end of the line, and Todd moves the phone from his ear to check if they're still connected.

"Amanda?"

"Todd..." she pauses again. "You know that just because you look after him doesn't make you his mother. People can look after other people without being their moms."

"I know that," he says, his face heating even though she can't see him.

"Or their big brothers," she says, quietly. He stares unseeingly at his coffee mug, and doesn't respond.

"What I'm saying," Amanda continues, "is that you don't need to feel weird about it. There are different types of family."

He closes his eyes and thinks of Dirk's hand clutching his.

"Thanks, Amanda."

"No problem, buttwipe," she says, and hangs up. He sighs.

"Todd?"

He turns around to see Dirk in the doorway, squinting at him. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and his pajama bottoms are about three inches too short.

"Who was that?"

"It was Amanda. She says she hopes you feel better."

Dirk smiles drowsily at him.

"That's nice of her."

"Yeah," Todd says, his heart thumping bizarrely fast for no reason. "How do you feel? You want some tea?"

"Tea would be lovely," Dirk says, his smile widening. "Look, I can talk again! And my teeth don't hurt anymore!"

"That's great," Todd says, grinning as Dirk moves his mouth around like he's doing vocal exercises, opening wide and narrowing to an _O_ of surprise.

He turns to boil the kettle and feels Dirk sidle up to him, standing at his shoulder. When he turns around, eyebrows raised, Dirk pulls him into another awkward hug. This time, Todd hugs him back. Dirk is warm from sleep and smells like tea leaves and lavender washing detergent.

"Thank you," Dirk says, into his hair.

"That's what I'm here for," Todd says. He turns his face into the warm skin of Dirk's neck and holds on tighter. "Any time."

 

 

 


End file.
